How to Lose Your Brother's Boyfriend in One Night
by D.S.W.N.F.O.S
Summary: Denmark and Norway freak out because Iceland is letting Hong Kong stay the night. THEY ARE AFRAID OF THE SEX! I suck at summaries, sorry!


Chapter 1

For the first time in, well, forever, Iceland woke himself up early and proceeded to make his own breakfast. There was a smile stretched across his face and he actually looked wide awake, unlike the two Scandinavians sitting at the kitchen table behind him. He hummed to himself a foreign little tune as he pillaged through the fridge and gathered an armful of ingredients before doing a little glide towards the stove. Norway peeked from over his newspaper at his younger brother with concern; he then kicked the Dane under the table and leaned to him.

"Danmark, did you spike the orange juice again?"

"No sir. I drank the rest of that three nights ago. Are you worried about Icey's behavior too?"

"I kind of want to punch him in the face right now. He's too happy for my morning tastes," he muttered as he took another sip of his coffee. "Hey, Iceland, could you tone down the cheer level? It's making me uncomfortable."

"What do you mean?" He asked and opened a can of jam. "Dan is like this all the time."

"Yeah, but he's an idiot, so he has an exception. You, however, are my brother, and my brother never acts this way."

"So I'm not allowed to be happy?"

"No, you're not supposed to be _this_ happy." With a roll of his eyes, Iceland continued to concoct some sort of unusual breakfast for himself. What he was making for himself was a mystery to the older Nordics and the smell it produced was absolutely vile.

"Your nauseous meal over there is taking over my nostrils. Can you make something that smells more appetizing, please?" Denmark pleaded.

"Then how about you make me breakfast then, since you seem to have a problem with my cooking."

"Hell no, you can make your own breakf-." A wad of mystery goop landed on the center of Denmark's t-shirt.

"You little brat, this is my favorite shirt!" Pieces of meat and bread were stuck to the shirt and Norway was already at the kitchen sink wetting dish rags and paper towels. Iceland ignored Denmark's curses and went on humming.

"I still want to know why the hell you are so happy all of the sudden," Norway muttered and handed Denmark a wet paper towel to clean off his shirt.

"I'm going out with a friend tonight, someone I haven't seen in awhile," he smiled. "That's why I'm kind of happy, mostly excited though."

"Aw, Icey got himself a little friend," Denmark said mockingly, "…is it weird?"

"It has a name, you know. Hong Kong is visiting."

"Yup, he's weird-Ow! Nor! Don't hit me. You people are abusive this morning."

"Don't make fun of Iceland's boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"He's the only friend Iceland has, other than Mr. Puffin."

"Stop being a jerk," Iceland exclaimed. "Anyways, can I go meet him tonight? We're seeing a movie and eating dinner, since the movie ends pretty late. I promise we won't do anything extremely stupid or get drunk like Denmark."

"Fine, fine, do what you want," Norway said before handing another paper towel to Denmark.

"Really?"

"Yeah, don't ask me again or I'll change my mind. Now grab a bagel or something from the pantry and run upstairs before Denmark gets back at you for ruining his shirt." Iceland nodded excitedly and swiftly ran upstairs.

"Punish him, will ya? He just threw whale barf all over me."

"I'm not going to punish him, moron. You probably deserved it and he's happy right now."

"Norge is turning into a softy."

"Shut up, or I'll make you eat whatever is left on your shirt and in that bowl."

* * *

"I already told you that I was going out."

"That's fine, but where are you going looking like that?" Norway questioned with a raised eyebrow. All eyes were on Iceland's…interesting ensemble. He was wearing his signature white boots with a pair of extremely skinny dark fuchsia jeans. A fluorescent yellow tank top was covered by some sort of long sleeved lacey cover. A strand of a pink hair extension was connected to the right side of his head and feathered bangles dangled from both of his wrists. Just add some heavy duty makeup and a tutu and Iceland could have been mistaken as one of Björk's backup dancers.

"Why didn't you tell us that you're a showgirl?"

"I'm not a showgirl. I don't even have the right genitals for the job."

"Male prostitute?"

"Denmark, really?"

"Okay, how about pole dancer then?"

"Shut the fuck up, Dan!" Iceland huffed before grabbing his coat and his keys. "I'm going to meet Hong Kong at the movie theater and then we're going to get something to eat. Can you guys make this place look descent before we get back?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! When did we decide that your Asian boyfriend could come over here?"

"First off, he's not my boyfriend."

"Bullshit!" The Dane hollered with laughter.

"Secondly, you didn't decide anything, I did. I kept pestering you two about bringing him over and all I got was a 'whatever' and some 'I-don't-care's. Still, why am I not allowed to bring him over to the house?"

"If you bring someone home with you, then that usually indicates that you will have sex with them. You're too young for sex and we don't want to know about you and your boyfriend's sex life. End of story," Norway snorted.

"Plus you can get pregnant if you don't use protecti-URGH!" Denmark's comment earned a jab to the ribs by Iceland's left elbow. Shoving past his older brother, he pulled open the front door and pointed back at the two blondes.

"He's not my boyfriend; he just needs a place to stay at tonight and he'll be out of here by nine in the morning. It's Hong Kong, when does he ever cause trouble? We're just going to hang out and play some video games or something when we get back. Clean this place up and don't act like assholes when he gets here or else I'll set off Eyjafjallajökull."

"And that will do what exactly?"

"Cancel your vacation plans for next week."

"You wouldn't!" Denmark gasped.

"Try me," and with that Iceland slammed the door behind him. There was a moment of silence amongst the two Nordics as they stared at the spot where Iceland once stood.

"Do you think Icey would actually try to mess up our vacation for next week, Norway? Norway?" Denmark poked

"I WILL DISOWN YOU IF YOU ACTUALLY PLAN ON GOING OUT LIKE THAT!" Norway yelled. "GET BACK HERE AND CHANGE YOUR GODDAMN CLOTHES OR I SWEAR TO ODIN YOU WILL NEVER ENTER THIS HOUSE AGAIN!" Within ten seconds flat, Iceland appeared back at the front door with a look of displeasure on his face. He murmured some Icelandic curses under his breath as he passed the two and stomped up stairs to his room. "Thank you, Island. You know that we love you and care about your wellbeing, right?"

"I hate you all."

"Now that's the brother I know."

* * *

Unlike his first outfit, Iceland was now dressed in simple dull yellow striped sweater and a comfortable pair of jeans. All jewelry was discarded and the strand of pink hair was nowhere to be seen. As he left the house for the second time, Denmark commented on how the new outfit showed less of his chubbiness. He was immediately awarded with a middle finger and off Iceland went. Upon entering the living room, Denmark noticed Norway shuffling through boxes in a nearby closet.

"What are you looking for? Iceland's baby pictures so we can embarrass him?"

"No, I'm just making sure I still have something." The Dane decided to give up on trying to figure out what Norway was looking for.

"Why do we hate Hong Kong again? I don't think that I've ever gotten that memo," Denmark asked when Norway suddenly materialized beside him with a large cardboard box in his arms.

"We don't hate him; we hate the fact that Iceland has a boyfriend who lives on the other side of the world."

"But we had a long distance relationship back when we where Vikings, remember? One of us would be gone for months at a time and then, if I behaved, we would have blissful "welcome home" sex before the next one would have to leave to go on another adventure."

"I've been saving and gathering the proper equipment so I could be prepared for this day," he exclaimed as he dug through the box's contents. "Here, you're going to have to use this." A petite pink razor abruptly flew through the air towards Denmark. He grasped the projectile before it was able to do any real damage to his head.

"Why do I have to use a girly razor?" He studied the object as if it was foreign to him.

"Oh, and you might need this as well." Suddenly, a can of shaving cream hammered itself into the side of Denmark's head.

"Fuck, Norge, you could have at least warned me. I'm going to have a huge knot on the side of my head now!" He whimpered.

"Maybe it knocked some sense into you," Norway guffawed. "Now go get a shower. You smell like dead fish and you need to shave your legs."

"I-I-I'm not going to shave my legs! T-that's not manly."

"Shave your legs or I'm going to shave them for you, along with your head." A nervous gulp from Denmark and he was off to the bathroom. "Remember to shave all of the hair off your legs, Dan. It will make you look sexier for tonight's plans."

"We better be having sex then, if that's the case!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Shit, I haven't written in awhile...anyways, sorry nothing exciting happened in this chapter but the next two are full of...crack? Yeah...


End file.
